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It doesn't matter anyway.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

I am here to blog, to liberate myself, to write what i want, how i want, to be better. So i'm taking off the tracker. Doesn't matter if you know who i am, doesn't matter if you're allowed a peek, maybe two, into the depths of my soul.

~ To be real, it doesn't matter anyway.~

God, this is such a horrible feeling, such a horrible state of mind. Last night i wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I swore to myself i'd let go, that i'd stop trying so hard, that i'd just let things be.

But how do you really know if you have let go?

I'm revisiting .. last time. Reverting, changing, morphing, evolving, varying, mutating, dying, bit by bit, yet somehow becoming more alive, more aware. You see, this is back when i thought too much, way too much. But last time i was always lonely. Well, this time i know that i have a choice. I don't have to be lonely, because i'm not alone.

But it is always possible to feel lonely even when you're not alone, true?

I'm surrounded by people who love me, yes, and last time i would've chosen to just stride on blindly, not thinking twice. Well, i congratulated myself before, for successfully getting rid of that mindset that drove my sleep away. The mindset that left me crouched in the darkest corner of a room, alone, sinking in my thoughts. Drowning. Internally.

Funny.

Now it's back, and i'm second guessing myself and everyone around me. And i'm telling myself again that no one understands. How childish, but perhaps i'm simply going backwards.

God, what is this. Why all these ... tears ... ? And this very odd desire to just lie down and curl up into a ball. And just stay. There. Like that. Until i'm ready to face the world again.

Gosh, so alone.. because, you see, my darling friends, you aren't really here, not really. You hear, but you don't really listen. Or maybe i'm just being too demanding. Why was it so easy before to just look for someone and pour everything out? Perhaps this is different, but simply the same. It is the same, but also different, and that makes sense, somehow.

And i do wonder why i try so hard sometimes, because there really isn't any point if you aren't doing it the right way. And i wonder how some people do it so easily. What is it in them that everything they touch turns to gold, whereas I...i'm just running headfirst into walls. Again. And. Again. I revealed this quiet site of mine to a couple of friends before, wanting them to read, wanting them to comprehend. I put myself on the line of my own peace, allowing them, if they were inclined, to make a mockery of my words. The words that i want so badly to come to life, and paint a picture of its own.

From another perspective, i did too offer a chance for them to see into me just a teeny bit more. But one wouldn't bother to read, the other simply doesn't share my passion for words.

~ Would you smile a little smile for me .. ~

And it's okay. Because i'm simply here to liberate myself, not to impress anyone. Not here, no.

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11:17 AM